Kidnapped
by Nival Vixen
Summary: COMPLETE! Children have been stolen from their birth parents to help win the war. Ginevra Lestrange and Hermione Riddle grow up best friends in a world ruled by the Dark Lord and when they find out the truth, they retaliate in the only way they know how. With their respective boyfriends Blaise and Draco helping them, they may just rule the world itself. Written for Meagan


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

Request for Meagan.

**Ship:** Draco/Hermione, Blaise/Ginny

**Prompt/request:** Evil Dumbledore, children stolen from original parents. Hermione Riddle, Ginny Lestrange.

**Anything else you think is needed:** Harry and Ron bashing.

Enjoy!

...

Two boys were kidnapped from their cots as infants, and though their parents and guardians mourned, most simply added it to the growing list and tried to move on, hoping and praying that it wouldn't happen to them too.

One person did take note of the two that were kidnapped, the fates of those two boys being entwined with his own. Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom had been taken, mere days before Riddle planned to kill one of the boys in order to stop their part in the prophecy and avoid death.

Riddle was livid for the rest of the week, and not even his most loyal Death Eaters dared to go near him in that mood, for fear of being fed to Nagini. He muttered to himself repeatedly, opening a book over and over, screaming in frustration a few times and coming close to hexing the blasted thing. Riddle even threw it across the room, but not one person moved to pick it up to take back to him, knowing all too well what it would do to them if they touched the book, namely being burned to death with darkfire. Riddle was the only one who could touch the book and survive, and if any managed to get past the spells that protected it, then they would be driven insane the moment they looked at the first page.

It had taken Riddle years upon years to discover the spell for sending messages from the future into the past, to find out more than a hushed rumour in the murky depths of the wizarding world. With that knowledge finally acquired, he had purchased a book and waited.

Through space and time itself, Riddle's future self had performed the spell, sacrificing the lives of more than one loyal Death Eater, so that he could convey the names of the resistance leaders who would ruin his reign before it had even truly began. Dying in the middle of the battlefield, faced with one possible future with the Boy Who Lived, Voldemort used his own blood to write two sentences in his precious book.

_Hermione Granger, Mudblood._

_Ron Weasley, blood traitor_.

Voldemort took his final breath, the world blackening before him, but he died with the knowledge that in another universe or a parallel world, he would reign and all would bow before him.

In the past, Riddle felt the entire book shudder beneath his hand, and he opened it to find two smeared sentences written in the unmistakable ink of blood. He looked at his own hand for a moment, the blood pumping so delicately beneath the surface, and wondered just what his future held. But then a broad smirk began to form on his face, for now, Riddle knew that he could mould the entire future of the world so that he would be revered as a god.

The words in the book were smudged, as if a large weight had fallen on the still-wet blood, but he dismissed the thought quickly. Riddle took up a quill and started to try out different letters to match the smudged ones in his book.

_Hermione Granger, Mudblood._

_Gin Weasley, blood traitor_.

_Well, they wouldn't be for long_, Riddle thought with a broad grin, summoning his Death Eaters to find the two and bring them back to him.

"Are you sure about this, my Lord?" Lucius asked hesitantly once the orders had been given and the other Death Eaters had Disapparated to complete their missions.

Riddle glared at him. "I find your lack of faith disturbing, Malfoy. Are you saying that you do not trust me?"

"O-of course not, my Lord. It's ... it's just that I do not trust the Death Eaters you have sent to complete this mission," he replied quickly.

"Now you are lying to me. You would do well to remember to whom it is you are speaking, Malfoy," Riddle growled.

A feeling flowed over Lucius' body, crawling along his skin, needles pricking into the flesh and pain devouring the surface until he was on his knees, screaming for the pain to stop.

"I do not like the fact that a blood traitor and Mudblood are so important to your future, my Lord!" he admitted finally, the words torn from his mouth unwillingly.

"They are not important to me, Malfoy, but to my future. The ones I planned on dealing with have been taken already, so in retaliation, I am taking these two instead. Dumbledore will discover that he is not the only one who can send messages from the future," Riddle murmured, almost to himself, his hand caressing the leather bound journal beside him.

Realising that he had just insulted Voldemort and was still alive, Lucius made a noise of agreement and left the room as quickly as he could, bowing to the red-eyed man on the throne on his way out.

...

The Death Eaters returned in a matter of hours, a few covered in hexes and burns.

"What happened to you?" Riddle sneered at the two worst injured. "You're **meant** to be my best Death Eaters."

One scowled and the other looked away, neither wanting to admit to what had happened.

"Do not make me repeat myself," he snarled, and their Dark Marks burned in response.

"The Weasley twins," Rodolphus Lestrange gasped in pain.

His surprise had the pain fading from their Marks, and Riddle frowned, motioning for them to continue.

"They woke up and caused absolute havoc," Nott muttered.

Riddle took a long moment to stare at them, unsure whether he was horrified, disappointed, or amused at their explanation.

"If two small children of the age of four are able to best you, then perhaps I should rethink your position in the circles," he stated.

"Please, my Lord, don't punish them. Not even the Weasley parents are able to handle their own children, and the fact that they were able to get past a spell of your own creation is a testament to their power," Bellatrix said, pleading for her husband as well as her own position in the circle as Rodolphus' wife.

Riddle took a moment to look at the raven-haired woman knelt before him. Bellatrix was unable to bear children of her own, something that she regretted sincerely, for she wanted to raise a child to praise the Dark Lord and follow him without question.

"Very well, Bellatrix. Your husband will not be punished. In fact, you will both be given a gift, one that I know you have wanted for some time," Riddle said, ushering two of the Death Eaters forward. "As generous as I am, you will even be able to choose the daughter you want to raise."

Bellatrix's eyes filled with surprise and hope, but behind her, Rodolphus looked as pale as a ghost and queasy at the thought.

"Which one is the blood traitor?" Bellatrix asked, looking between the two girls.

"This one," Crabbe Snr. said, showing Ginny to her.

"I will have her as my daughter, if it pleases you, my Lord," Bellatrix said, looking to him.

"I've already given permission, Bellatrix. Now leave before I change my mind. Ensure that she is raised correctly."

"Of course, my Lord. Thank you for your generosity," she said reverently, taking the baby from Crabbe Snr. carefully and leaving the room immediately, Rodolphus trailing after her, still looking shocked.

"Who will raise the Mudblood, my Lord?" Goyle Snr. asked, looking at the brunette in his arms.

The girl was an orphan now, with her parents being killed in their sleep and the house set alight. No one in the Muggle world would be looking for her, and if she was as special as the Dark Lord claimed, then she would survive the transition to the magical world easily enough. The Weasley girl was a bit more problematic, but it wasn't the first time the Death Eaters had stolen a child right from under their parents' noses.

"I will," Riddle announced, surprising the Death Eaters that were still gathered.

Despite their surprise, none questioned him. Instead, Goyle passed the girl to him and everyone left as soon as they could manage.

"You will be raised to my standards, little one, and I can assure you that you will be raised better than I ever was in that hole of an orphanage," he hissed.

Hermione looked up at him with big brown eyes and giggled.

...

Ginevra Lestrange and Hermione Riddle grew up together in the Dark Lord's circles, and were inseparable throughout their childhood. By the age of six, both girls knew more about the Dark Arts than some of the lower-ranked Death Eaters, and could perform a Cruciatus Curse that would bring an adult to his knees. They had announced that they could do this before turning and cursing the closest person to them. Bellatrix had been so proud of Ginevra, laughing wildly as she scooped up the young girl and hugged her tightly. Hermione knew that she would never get the same response from her father, and simply stood beside his chair, watching as the two cursed people writhed on the floor in front of them. Feeling a weight on her shoulder, Hermione looked over to see her father resting his hand on her and actually smiling. It was brief, but it was there, and she had never felt so happy as in that moment. She was determined to make her father proud of her.

When Hermione left for Hogwarts, Ginevra spent the whole rest of the day in her bedroom screaming about how unfair it was that she had to wait a whole year. She was secretly terrified that Hermione would make new friends and replace her, but Ginevra didn't dare admit it, and simply hexed the house elves that her mother sent to get her for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

When her father called to say that she had a letter, Ginevra raced out of her room, took the envelope from the owl and ran upstairs, calling a thanks over her shoulder.

"She's going to be the death of me, I swear, Trix," Rodolphus muttered.

"No, she won't. Ginevra's our daughter and she'd never kill her parents anymore than you or I would," Bellatrix said firmly.

"You **did** kill your parents," he said, not assured in the slightest.

Bellatrix just laughed and left Rodolphus there to squirm.

To anyone else, Hermione's letter would have seemed short and succinct, but Ginevra knew her friend better. A spell or two had the few sentences fading and a new scroll-long letter appearing in its stead. Hermione told her that she made it into Slytherin (not that either of them expected anything else. Hermione was vicious when angered and had read every book on Dark Arts in both of their libraries); the train ride was fairly uneventful (though she did hex a boy who had red hair and more freckles than Ginevra); and the welcoming feast was as amazing as they'd ever dreamed it would be (no, Aunt Trix wasn't lying about how good the pumpkin tarts were). The letter ended with Hermione grousing about how she'd have to put up with Millicent's snoring for the year, and she wished Gin had come with her.

Ginevra's reply was just as long, with a few taunts about silencing spells, and one very short sentence stating how she missed her already.

For the rest of the year, they sent letters back and forth as often as they could. Hermione taught Gin how to perform the basic first year spells they were doing, and she sent back the thick tomes of Dark Arts books that Hermione requested (_they're in the library, but you can't even look at the bloody things without getting a Professor's permission_! Hermione wrote, her frustration more than evident in the sharp letterings), along with the usual gossip of their parents and the Death Eaters (Loretta's sixth husband just died and she's on the prowl. Don't worry, your father's much too smart to be her seventh, Ginevra promised).

...

When Ginevra did make it to Hogwarts the next year, she was placed in Slytherin (there was a whisper of Gryffindor courage in her ear, but Ginevra firmly denied that, scowling beneath the Sorting Hat) and sat beside Hermione immediately, both girls smirking triumphantly.

At the teacher's table, Dumbledore watched the two girls for a brief moment before turning away and introducing the feast as he always did. When he'd eaten something, Dumbledore murmured something about a queasy stomach and left as quickly as he dared. Making sure that he was alone, Dumbledore headed up to the seventh floor and opened the door that appeared at his requirement.

"The feast is over, boys, it's time to start training again," he called, making a loud bang with his wand to get their attention.

Harry and Neville stood up quickly, soldiers at the ready, and simply watched as their unfinished meals disappeared without a word. A training room reformed around them, but before it had finished, Dumbledore sent the first hex.

Neville ducked, Harry jumped out of the way, and the hex missed them by mere centimetres. Dumbledore grinned, sending another hex and pulling a sword out from his robe. They didn't have time to relax, and they had never been children so had no childhood to speak of, but some things had to be sacrificed for the greater good.

...

Rumours of the Chosen Ones had always abounded, whispers of false hope in traitors ears, and Voldemort had always let them slide. Hermione and Ginevra had talked of it together and came to the conclusion that Hermione's father wanted them to feel hopeful just so he could take it away from them, so that the traitors would know that no one would ever save them, and there were no Chosen Ones.

At Hogwarts it was different though. The Chosen Ones were spoken of reverently, as soldiers of the Light who trained in secret, who fought for the side of good, and there were some who even claimed to see them wandering the castle at night. _It was the reason that they had a curfew and the doors were locked at night_, some whispered, as if they personally knew the inner workings of Dumbledore's mind.

Hermione wrote to her father about the rumours while Gin wrote to Bellatrix. For three long months, neither one received an answer to their questions, with both parents avoiding the topic. It wasn't until the two girls announced that they wouldn't write, nor go home for Christmas, that Bellatrix finally broke down and gave them three words: Department of Mysteries.

The Department of Mysteries was the Ministry's worst kept secret, and as the daughters of the Dark Lord and his most trusted Death Eaters, Hermione and Gin knew all manner of spells and charms that could get them into the Ministry undetected. All they had to do was get out of Hogwarts so they could illegally Apparate to Diagon Alley. Neither one dared to go to the Department of Mysteries when they were home for the summer, knowing that their parents would never forgive them for going while they were in their care.

It took two years until Hermione and Gin were both over thirteen and had permission to go to Hogsmeade, but they could be patient when it suited them. They kept quiet about their plans, kept up with their studies, listened to the rumours of the Chosen Ones a little more closely, all the while they researched and read everything about the obscure and mysterious Department that they could get their hands on, Light or Dark. Hermione and Gin arranged to go to Hogsmeade with Draco and Blaise respectively, but the moment they were outside of the Hogwarts boundary, they both Apparated, leaving two Stunned boys behind.

The spells that they'd woven around each other had a time limit, and Gin cursed at the lift impatiently when it didn't arrive quick enough for her liking. Hermione smirked and told her to be patient - they could always see how the Aurors had improved over the years if the spell wore off quicker than anticipated. The lift arriving drowned out Gin's laughter. They were alone when they stepped into the lift, and it only took a matter of seconds to get down to the Department of Mysteries.

Hermione pulled out a scroll when they reached the silvery door, Gin keeping a tight hold on her robe. They'd pooled their allowance together to buy this scroll, but as it was a map of the Department of Mysteries, it would be more than worth the 10 Galleons they'd spent.

"I say we start in the prophecy area and work our way back," Hermione murmured.

Gin nodded in agreement; they both knew how superstitious her father could be.

Casting a few spells to ward against losing their minds, Hermione and Gin stepped through the doors of the Department of Mysteries, and walked forward carefully but quickly. They made it to the prophecy section in a matter of minutes, shelves upon shelves filled with small crystal balls, each one filled with an individual prophecy for the superstitious and wary to believe.

"Hermione," Gin whispered, suddenly stopping short and almost losing her hold on her friend's robe.

"What's wrong?" she hissed, looking around for an Auror or one of the Unspeakables.

"This has your father's name on it," she replied, pointing at the small plaque beneath the crystal ball.

"Don't touch it," Hermione said quickly, pulling her back. "You'll go insane if you do."

"Why's it still here? Wouldn't your father take it himself if he knew it was here?"

"Maybe he knows that no one else will be able to take it so he can leave it," Hermione mused. "There's another one," she added, looking further along the shelf.

"More than one," Gin corrected, seeing the full shelf. "Tom Riddle and Harry Potter, Tom Riddle and Neville Longbottom, Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle and ... Hermione Granger? Someone else has your name," she said, grinning at her. "Poor girl, her parents mustn't've liked her."

"Shove off," Hermione muttered, taking a step forward.

"What are you doing? You can't touch it, remember?" Gin hissed when she saw her reach out to the small crystal ball.

"I know... It's just... I know that name," Hermione said, frowning even as she took hold of the ball and pulled it off the shelf.

Gin winced, shielding her eyes as she waited for the screaming, explosion of light or glass, or some sort of trigger to protect the prophetic device. None of those things happened, and she slowly opened her eyes to see Hermione staring at the crystal ball, her eyes wide.

"Hermione? What's going on? What do you see?" Gin asked, shaking her.

Hermione didn't budge, but a few minutes later, blinked her way out of her daze and looked at Gin, looking as if her entire world had just been torn apart.

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you later. Come on, let's get out of here before we get caught," Hermione muttered, pocketing the crystal ball.

Nodding, Gin followed Hermione back out of the Department of Mysteries, their eyes squarely on the map.

Disapparating to Hogsmeade took three tries, Hermione's concentration shaken from whatever she'd seen in the ball, but they made it back in one piece. They were faced with two very irate Slytherin boys, who would have hexed them if they weren't the daughters of who they were.

"You had better have a damn good explanation for Stunning us and Apparating off like that," Draco hissed at Hermione.

"We do, don't worry about that," she replied with a smirk. "But you won't ever hear it," she added, turning and leaving.

Gin was surprised at her words, but ran after Hermione quickly.

"What happened back there, Hermione?" Gin asked quietly when they'd stopped in front of the Shrieking Shack.

"I don't want to talk about it. Not yet," she added.

"Was it actually about you? How do you know it wasn't someone else with the same first name as yours?" Gin asked quietly.

"I said _not yet_, just leave off."

Gin looked hurt for a split second, but nodded, straightening up slightly. "Fine, don't worry about it, I won't ask you again."

"Don't be like that, Gin, I just said _not yet_, not _never_," Hermione muttered.

She nodded briefly in return, but didn't relax her stance.

They stood there in silence for a long while before returning to the Thestral-pulled carriages.

...

Time passed quickly, and for a few months, neither one brought up the Department of Mysteries. In fact, it looked as though they weren't speaking to each other at all, and it worried the rest of the Slytherins no end, knowing how close Hermione and Gin were. Blaise snapped first, telling the two of them to kiss and make up already because he was sick of walking on eggshells around them. Gin and Hermione hexed him for speaking to them like that, but didn't talk to each other still.

Draco snapped next, trying to lock the two girls in an abandoned classroom to work things out. They blew a hole in the wall when they realised that he'd hexed the door shut, and after Hermione put him a Full Body Bind, Gin and Hermione stepped over his frozen body to leave. Still, they didn't talk to each other.

As a last resort, Blaise and Draco threatened to owl their parents if Gin and Hermione didn't start talking to each other again. Their threat seemed to work at first, but then both boys found that they were merely plotting, working together to get their revenge on the 'nosy damned wizards' before reverting back to their now-normal attitude of not talking to each other. That was the reason why Draco showed up to the Great Hall with hair coloured Gryffindor red and gold, and Blaise's clothes kept changing to the gaudy Hufflepuff black and yellow colours for a whole week.

Hermione and Gin started to talk to each other again after that, slowly at first, arguments more often than not, but they were communicating and that was enough for the other Slytherins. Their arguments faded into long discussions, whispered talks, and late-night runs to the library. No one asked what they were doing or talking about, remembering all too well what had happened the last time someone had questioned them, and simply waited to see what would come of it. They were all curious though, two more so than others.

"Since you two so rudely hexed us and left, I say that you owe us another date to Hogsmeade," Draco said to Hermione, sitting across from her in the library.

"It's been over a year, why are you bothering us now?" Gin asked, looking at Blaise as he sat across from her too.

"Because you two have been holed up in the library like bloody Ravenclaws. People are starting to talk, you know," Blaise said, smirking.

"They always talk," Hermione pointed out, raising her eyebrow at him. "If you wanted to go out with us, just ask. Don't bullshit and beat around the broom," she said, looking to Draco.

"We'll meet you at the entrance at 10 then," Draco said, smirking as he stood up.

"We'll be there at 10:30," Gin called after them, her attention already returned to the book in front of her.

Hermione had told her the prophecy from the crystal ball after they'd hexed Draco and Blaise, and they'd gone to the library to look at the Muggle newspapers almost immediately. It had confirmed their suspicions: Hermione was actually a Mudblood. The very thought of being less than a pureblood made Hermione feel physically ill, and they'd gone on a rampage through the library (even going so far as to get Quirrell's signature for the Restricted Section) to find a cure. The translation spells on some of the books had worn out, so there was a long month of re-learning Romanian so they could actually read the words. From there, it had taken almost another year to find anything that sounded similar to what they wanted to do.

"Researching your next dad's next killing spree, Riddle?" an annoyingly familiar voice said, glaring down at them.

"Weasley, you're in a library! I'd better call the Daily Prophet and let them know," Gin said with a sneer.

"Better yet, let's tie some string to him so he can find his way out again," Hermione said, glaring at the redheaded boy. "Get the hell out of my sight, or your family will be next, you blood traitor," she hissed.

"Aw, young love. Isn't it a delightful sight, Gred?" Fred asked with a dramatic sniff.

"Lovely, Forge. Imagine the babies they could have!" George said, draping his arm around Ron's shoulder and grinning down at them.

"Oh, gods, I think I'm going to throw up," Hermione groaned, her entire face pale.

"Actually, that's a pretty horrible thought. His complexion and her smarts? The poor kid would probably beg for a wand just to turn on itself," Fred said, shuddering.

"Oi, shove off," Ron snarled at them, trying to shrug George off him.

"You're lucky we like your brothers, or your family would have been killed years ago, you little Flobberworm," Gin hissed at Ron.

"The Chosen Ones are going to come, and your families are going to be the ones that will be killed, you blood purists!"

"You actually believe that, don't you, Weasel?" Hermione asked, laughing incredulously. "The Chosen Ones aren't real. No one is going to save you, and I hope I'm there when you realise that too," she snarled, standing abruptly and shoving past him, knocking Ron to the ground.

He let out a cry as he hit the floor. Gin followed Hermione out of the library, kicking Ron for good measure, scowling at him over her shoulder. Ron pulled out his wand to hex her, but Fred and George stood in front of him firmly.

"You don't hex an unarmed witch, you little ... Flobberworm," they snarled at him in unison.

"She's Slytherin filth!" Ron replied, as if that explained everything.

"_She's an unarmed witch_," Fred and George said, Stunning him before he lost his temper as usual and did something that they couldn't fix.

...

Another year passed, but all of the ingredients were finally gathered, and Hermione was lying on her bed. She believed that she was ready for the pain, but then Gin began to prick her skin with the needles, potions flowing into her body to modify her blood so that she would truly be pure. Hermione thought that she'd prepared herself for the pain, but as her entire body began to burn and she writhed, trying to get the pain out of her, Hermione found that she had grossly underestimated what this would feel like. Luckily, Gin had the foresight to bind her to the bed, and despite not wanting to see her best friend in pain like this, she'd made herself stay where she was. Hermione wanted to be a pureblood like her father, and Gin wouldn't be the one to take that away from her.

The next day, long after classes had started, Hermione finally stopped writhing. She'd lost her voice from screaming for so long, but her bed had been set with silencing spells long ago due to Millicent's snoring, so it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Hermione struggled to sit up, and cautiously, Gin undid the binds on her. She helped her sit up, offering a goblet of water. Hermione drank deeply and gratefully, her eyes closed in bliss at the cool liquid. She was sure that water had never tasted so good before.

"Are you feeling okay?" Gin asked hesitantly.

Hermione nodded briefly, grinning at Gin as she saw a myriad of colours surrounding her. The pure magic potion had brought about a few side effects, but they'd fade in time. She wasn't sure she wanted them to - Hermione could _smell_ the magic in the air, a sweet scent that had no equal.

"Do you want to go for a walk? You've been lying down for more than a day," Gin murmured, receiving an enthusiastic nod in response.

It took Hermione a few moments to adjust to the new height, having been vertical for all of that time, and it took a few minutes for her to walk properly without needing Gin's help. When she was finally ready to go, Hermione walked towards the door and opened it immediately. The onslaught of noise, smells, and pure unadulterated magic in the air hit her all at once and Hermione swayed dangerously, clutching the door handle tightly. Gin hurried to hold her up. Again, it took a few minutes for Hermione to adjust to the new senses, and they made their way out to the Common Room slowly.

"What are you two doing here?" Gin hissed, seeing Draco and Blaise sitting in the armchairs, looking as if they were waiting specifically for them.

"We had a date. You didn't show up. As the caring boyfriends that we are, we figured we'd see what our girlfriends were doing," Draco replied, looking at them pointedly.

"Mind you, since we came out here to find all of your roommates sleeping on the lounges and Millicent snoring like the Hogwarts Express, we figured you were doing something important. Care to share?" Blaise asked, leaning forward to scrutinise them properly.

"We'll reschedule for next weekend," Gin said, going to move past them.

Draco's skills as Seeker and Blaise's Beater skills made them quick to respond to most circumstances, and they were blocking the doorway before either girl could reach it.

"Let us pass, you gits. Hermione needs some air."

"Not until you tell us what's going on," Blaise said, his arms crossed on his chest.

"You'd let your girlfriend faint from lack of oxygen?" Gin asked Draco, glowering at him.

"If it's just oxygen she needs..." Draco murmured, moving past Gin to take Hermione in his arms.

He kissed her hotly, breathing into her mouth so she could take the air she so desperately needed. Keeping his eyes open, Draco watched Hermione carefully. He breathed through his nose, continuing to breath into her mouth until she pulled away sharply, gasping for air.

"What's going on? You'd already be hexing me for something like that," Draco muttered, taking Hermione's hand and looking at her.

"Sore throat," she rasped.

"Can you let us out now? She needs to go outside to get rid of the germs. It's either that or Pepper Up Potion, and unless it's life threatening, Pomfrey's refused to see either of us after the last time," Gin said with a smirk.

"You hexed her Slytherin green, I'm not surprised," Blaise drawled.

"Don't forget your robe," Draco murmured, summoning the fur-lined robe and wrapping it around Hermione's shoulders carefully.

She gave him a brief smile and let Gin lead her outside.

"Did you believe them?" Blaise asked once the portrait closed behind their girlfriends.

"Of course not. But they've done something, Hermione tastes different," Draco said, licking his lips.

"Good or bad different?"

"Definitely good different," he said with a smirk.

"Great, that means you two are going to be snogging in public even more," Blaise groaned.

"Please, we snog far less than you and Gin do," he retorted.

"I know," he said, smirking broadly.

"You get off on snogging her in such public places, don't you, you kinky bastard?"

"Hey, I'm not a bastard!" Blaise said, grinning as he went back into the Common Room.

Draco rolled his eyes and followed him.

...

The rumours of the Chosen Ones were getting even more outlandish as time went by, tales of the two wizards taming dragons and zombie-like creatures rising out of a soul-filled lake only to be defeated by a stream of fire from the tamed dragon. It was obvious who believed the tales and who didn't just from their response when another tale was whispered between students during History of Magic.

Ron had hung onto every word that Dean Thomas said, snapping at Hermione when she'd stated how it was a load of rubbish. She'd clenched her wand tightly, and it was only due to their next lesson that she'd been able to calm herself enough to not hex him into pieces. The Defence Against the Dark Arts class was highly hands-on, and they even went so far as to practice spells on each other to ensure that they were able to defend themselves.

In the middle of Quirrell's speech about werewolves, Hermione had stood up and challenged Ron to a duel. Quirrell had been surprised to say the least, but set up the duelling area. Ron had no choice but to accept the challenge, two classes of his peers watching to see what he'd do. Hermione kicked Ron's arse, to put it bluntly. His wand was malfunctioning for whatever reason and he couldn't bring up a simple shield, let alone try to retaliate against her spells. Ron was sent to the hospital wing less than ten minutes later, Lavender Brown wailing and running after her boyfriend.

The rest of the year passed by fairly uneventfully, even though the amount of Death Eater attacks increased considerably. Hermione was impatient for the year to end so that she could receive her Mark too. She and Gin went home with high expectations, but they were dashed almost immediately. The war had increased to the point where it wasn't safe for them to be in England anymore, and both girls were sent away to family in France for safe-keeping.

Gin rebelled almost immediately, exploding an entire orchard to nothing but twigs and toothpicks in the Lestrange estate. Hermione was quieter, reading every book on warfare and strategic manoeuvres that she could, certain that it was her lack of knowledge that had led to her being sent away rather than helping like she knew she could. A small leather bound book was included in the books that the house elves had brought over, and it was through that diary that Hermione and Gin found out that Riddle was a half-blood. She destroyed the diary the moment she discovered the truth, her favoured snake tooth necklace piercing the cover and drowning her hand in black ink. To Hermione, her father's betrayal was even worse than finding out that she was a Mudblood, and she refused to listen to any more of his lies. Tom Riddle's little girl was no longer going to look to him as someone to admire or someone to get praise from. Hermione Riddle had grown up and cast aside her child-like adoration for the man who wasn't her father, the man who hadn't even had the sense to make himself as pure as the ones he preached to.

Hermione and Gin began to plot, bringing their boyfriends, and their friends in Slytherin into the plans when they were assured that they wouldn't betray them too. They all knew about the Horcruxes, and when they began to actively search them out, Hermione and Gin discovered that they weren't the only ones who knew about them. A simple goblet was stolen from the Lestrange vault in Gringotts, but neither Bellatrix nor Rodolphus would tell them what it's value was. It was obvious that someone else was dealing with the obstacles to defeat Voldemort, the girls planned and plotted how to takeover from their parents as quickly and easily as possible.

"Our girls are going to rule the world," Blaise murmured to Draco late one night when Gin and Hermione had fallen asleep among the books, scrolls, and various scraps of parchment.

"There was never a doubt about that," Draco replied, rolling his eyes. "Come on, let's get them to bed or else they'll wake up irritable."

"They always wake up irritable," Blaise said, smirking.

Gin moved in her sleep, and Blaise winced, certain that she'd heard him. When he saw that she was still sleeping, he breathed a sigh of relief, and hurried to levitate her down to their bedroom.

Draco snickered and left after them with Hermione gently levitated in front of him.

...

The war was surprisingly brief. The Chosen Ones had appeared in a blaze of phoenix flames, Dumbledore standing behind Harry and Neville with a small army of children at the ready. As their names were called out across the battlefield, it became known that Dumbledore had stolen the children to raise his very own army. Voldemort had done the same - Ginevra and Hermione were not the first, nor the last - and it made the members of the Order of the Phoenix confused beyond belief to see that their beloved leader had done exactly what their enemy was being fought for.

Halfway through the fight, Gin and Hermione put their plan into action, turning and fighting against the ones that they were originally fighting with. The Order had been pushed back into the recesses of the fight - just because they were fighting against their enemy it didn't mean that they were fighting for the Light too - and were surrounded by those loyal to them. Any that tried to fight their capture were hexed, injured, or killed, and the war on the battlefield continued.

Neville had charged forward with a sword raised, chopping off the head of Voldemort's beloved Nagini with a clean strike. Harry had sent a hex at Voldemort at the exact moment he had sent one at Harry, and with a flash of light, their wands reacted to the other's core. Green and red fought with such ferocity that it seemed neither would give in and win. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a black hilted knife plunged into Voldemort's back and his concentration was understandably distracted. The green light from Harry's wand overcame him and Voldemort died with a scream and burst of ashes.

"You killed your own father!" Bellatrix yelled at Hermione, Rodolphus standing beside her and staring at the teenager in shock.

"You said they wouldn't kill us," he murmured, his body trembling.

"He was a half-blood. I only did what he would have done if he'd discovered the same about any of you," Hermione replied, ignoring Bellatrix's screaming.

"He was a half-blood, but you're a Mudblood!" Bellatrix shouted.

"I haven't been a Mudblood since my fourth year, Aunt Trix. Now, you will either kneel before me or you will suffer the same fate as my father," Hermione said.

At that moment, Bellatrix realised that she was surrounded. The members of the Light side were still being watched by a select few, but the Death Eaters that had been loyal to Voldemort were surrounded by a larger group of Slytherins and even a few Ravenclaws.

"You cannot do this!" a voice cried out, and Dumbledore burst into the circle.

"You have no say in this, Dumbledore," Gin hissed, glaring at him.

"You'd do well to take your little Chosen Ones and leave," Blaise added with a smirk.

"Or perhaps you'd like to stay here and explain how you stole your army from their parents?" Draco asked smugly.

"What?" Harry asked, moving into the circle to look at his mentor.

"It was a necessary sacrifice. I did what I did in order to save you, to save all of you. If not for me, you'd either be dead or an orphan right now."

"If I'm not an orphan, then where are my parents?" Harry demanded.

"They're over there, along with your parents, Ginevra," Dumbledore asked, looking to her. "You didn't really think that all of that red hair was a dormant gene inherited from your Aunt Andromeda, did you?" he asked with a sneer.

"My parents?" Gin asked, blinking a few times before looking at Bellatrix and Rodolphus in front of her.

"We raised you, you're our daughter, Gin. Don't listen to this old idiot," Bellatrix muttered, kicking him so he fell to his knees.

A large red-headed woman broke out of the crowd of the Light, running forward with her arms outstretched. "Ginny! My Ginny, oh you poor thing. Come with me, and I'll get the best doctors to remove the evil that's been put on you!"

"The evil that's been put on me? What potion have you been sniffing, lady?" Gin asked with a disgusted scowl. Then she noticed exactly who the woman was. "You're ... I'm ... A _Weasley_? Ugh, I cannot believe I'm actually related to Ron... Never mind all that. It doesn't change our plans, Hermione," Gin said with a firm nod.

"Good to know," Blaise said, smirking.

Together, the four of them pointed their wands at the group of Death Eaters that were in the circle before them. Those smart enough to realise what was about to happen dropped to their knees and pledged their allegiance immediately, their wands pressed to their Dark Marks.

"Are you pledging your allegiance, Mum?" Gin asked curiously, seeing that Bellatrix was still standing.

"The Dark Lord was the only one worthy of my allegiance," she said defiantly.

"All right then. Let's get this done," Gin muttered.

A curse flew from each of their lips, a black-green curse flowing from their wands and washing over the Death Eaters before them. As the standing Death Eaters began to disintegrate and die, the gathered Light group began to cheer loudly. Their noise died down when they realised that the curse was still moving through people and heading towards them. Some dropped to their knees immediately, others tried to run, while some like Harry and his parents decided to make a stand and stay upright. Those that were on their knees were spared, the ones that tried to run didn't get far, and those that made a stand weren't there for very long, disintegrating along with the traitorous Death Eaters.

Surveying the group that were still with them, the four were surprised to see that Bellatrix had changed her mind at the last moment and was kneeling. One of the Chosen Ones was on his knees too, clutching his wand tightly. Dumbledore had struggled to his feet, but hadn't survived their spell.

Hermione grinned as Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her soundly. Beside them, Blaise and Gin were already snogging, their hands gripping each other's robes tightly. Their plans had worked out, and when they stopped kissing, the wizarding world would be theirs to rule.

...

End of request.

Hope you liked it!


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